


Love is where the heart is

by Dendros



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Comedy, Don't think bad of Jaina, F/F, Probably first time Sylvanas faces jealousy, and she's NOT happy with it, local gay elf has feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:19:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24523726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dendros/pseuds/Dendros
Summary: The responsibilities of peace are forcing Sylvanas and Jaina to spend time apart. When Sylvanas discovers that Jaina secretly seeks company to fulfill her loneliness,  she allows it. Until her position is threatened.
Relationships: Jaina Proudmoore/Other(s), Jaina Proudmoore/Sylvanas Windrunner
Comments: 21
Kudos: 192





	Love is where the heart is

It’s disgusting. Repugnant. Nauseating.

It’s a betrayal.

It all starts when she first notices her wife sneaking during lunchtime. Unlike the past few weeks – in which Sylvanas had to skip their lunch together to more pressing duties, much to Jaina’s disappointment- today she has cleared her schedule to surprise the mage with a much needed time together. She hopes that Jaina won't plant a stack of paperwork on the table -as she usually does- and decides, instead, to settle her focus on tracing the slender fingers of her wife with a hand while she holds a fork with the other.  


Walking down the hallway to the dining room with long strides, Sylvanas smiles. She has missed Jaina.

Her ears perk up upon the sight of a mane of silver hair peeking out of a door, looking around. Sylvanas is fast to hide in the shadows, still determined to get that delighted squeal she knows Jaina is capable of only when the two of them are alone. But her plans seem to alter when, with strangely careful steps, Jaina’s full-body comes out of the room. She seems to discuss something with Alina, whispers so low not even Sylvanas can make the words out of the conversation. Jaina makes a gesture with finality in a gesticulation Sylvanas recognizes as a command. The mage starts walking quickly towards the back door of the Keep, Alina left behind.

Raising an eyebrow in curiosity, Sylvanas follows. 

She walks behind Jaina through the gardens, out of the Keep and into the bustle of Boralus’ streets. It’s hard to maintain a prudent distance so as not to make her dark essence be captured by her wife’s refined affinity towards magic. It's even harder to keep Jaina in her visual field between tall taurens, brute orcs, and well-built Kul’Tiran fishers yelling insistently about cheap prices to every single person that crosses their path. How Jaina sails steady through this chaos is astonishing to Sylvanas. Probably a talent born by habit much like her own silent strides across the rich forests of Quel’Thalas, as Jaina once pointed out.  


It’s a challenge to her ranger skills, dodge the fishes being abruptly pressed to her face while jumping over gnomes and goblins. It's on occasions like these when she regrets the Dalaran peace treaty. Nevertheless, she emerges victorious from her mission, leaving the path of hell behind and watching, with both growing concern and suspicion, how the mage looks around anxiously before entering the dark alley in front of her.

Sylvanas’ ears are flat against her skull now. 

Hesitantly, the elf hides behind the brick wall of the alley and takes a stealthy look inside.

Sylvanas frowns. The fact that her wife sneaked out to hide in this dark alley, far away from unwanted eyes, makes the Warchief feel confused; she wasn't aware Jaina fancies this kind of friendship. On second thought, Jaina was kind to any race, either alliance or horde; cautious but generous in her affections towards them, so in other circumstances, this wouldn’t be a scenery out of ordinary. A simple hug. 

A too-clingy hug. 

Then came the whispers; declarations of concern and appreciation. And then kisses on the forehead, nose, cheek. And then, tender touches.

Sylvanas turns around and walks back to the Keep. 

-

“Welcome home, _Dalah'surfal_.” Sylvanas draws out, stretched on her seat in a display of her usual overconfidence when Jaina walks into their chambers.  


“Sylvanas!” Jaina smiles and rushes to her, cupping a cold cheek to lift Sylvanas’ chin and meet her lips. Jaina kisses her once, then twice and Sylvanas lets her, focusing on the warmth of her breath. After a minute, the mage pulls away and takes the seat next to Sylvanas, grabbing the hand that is resting on the armchair.

“I haven't seen you all day.” Jaina laments. 

Sylvanas looks at her right in the eyes, sees the yearning and the uncertainness. Have they spent so much time apart that her wife feels the need to seek affection in dirty alleys?

Sylvanas raises their hands and presses them to her lips, more so to restrain Jaina from escaping than anything else.

“I saw where you went this afternoon.” As she predicted, Jaina’s first instinct is to pull away, but the Warchief’s grip is strong. “I wasn’t aware you felt the need for such a thing.”

Jaina bites her lower lip. “Sylvanas it’s just...I’ve always wanted it. And we have been apart these last few weeks, that I- don’t hurt her, please. “  


Sylvanas frowns. “Why would I?”

“Well” Jaina pauses, and then shrugs, defeated. “I’ll stop it if you wish me to do so… but I don’t want to.” The last sentence is whispered with apprehension.

“You can bring her in. There’s no point in hiding anyway. Also, it’s improper of the Lord Admiral to sneak in dirty alleys for…some company.”  


“Wouldn’t be the first time.” Jaina mumbles, blushing when Sylvanas raises a brow.

“Trust me when I say it’s fine, Jaina.”

There’s still doubt in the mage’s eyes. “Are you sure you don’t mind? People around here are not accustomed to- I mean night elves are known for having them but-.” Sylvanas stops her babbling raising a hand and nods. When Jaina beams at her, unlimited joy dancing in her eyes, Sylvanas thinks it’s worth it. 

And that was the beginning of the end. 

-

This whole deal was meant for Jaina to have company while Sylvanas was away, patrolling the forests of their kingdom or commanding the tropes. A routine they had agreed to; while Sylvanas had the experience, gained both in her life and undeath, Jaina was incomparable in what paperwork is concerned. Nonetheless, when a superior authority was required to sail across the raging seas, the Lord Admiral did not waver to step first behind the ship’s wheel. That’s when she switched positions with Sylvanas. They worked as a team, unyielding and unmovable. An understanding between them that had grown out of necessity during their first year of marriage to then, shyly but enthusiastically, be nurtured towards their private, personal side.

It’s been almost three years since their first sincere kiss, Sylvanas realizes. And many had followed ever since.

However, even if their strength intensifies tenfold when they stand side by side, directing two factions requires a great amount of their time spent away from each other. Unlike now, with the two of them sitting on the same couch. Barely centimeters away. And Sylvanas being completely ignored by her wife.  


The Warchief stamps a foot on the floor repeatedly with an air of impatience, unwilling to give voice to her thoughts. By doing so, she would admit that a green, all-too consuming bile is eating her from the inside-out and admitting that implies she’s uncertain about her position in Jaina’s life. 

Sylvanas is many things, but she is not weak. 

When she directs her eyes to looks over Jaina without turning her head, she finds, with a pain she refuses to acknowledge, that her wife is completely unaware of her suffering, too preoccupied with her company whose head is resting on her lap while the mage runs a hand through her rich black hair with a tenderness that used to be only devoted to Sylvanas. The utter admiration reflected in blue eyes no longer shines in her direction.  
Sylvanas huffs, audibly. No response. She clicks her tongue against her fangs. Nothing. The Banshee Queen decides to let it pass, for she encouraged this situation and the last thing she needs now on top of unmentionable emotions is hypocrisy.  
The main object of her inner turmoil turns gracefully towards her, eyeing Sylvanas with what can only be described as lordliness. Sylvanas doesn’t want to look at her. 

The next scene perturbs her so, that she can’t help but stare. It was one thing to witness a kiss or a hug. It was another thing entirely to witness Jaina massage those small ears.

Ears that are not hers. 

Sylvanas twists her lips in a snarl. Jaina hasn’t touched her ears in **weeks** , certainly not with that deliberate fondness. Irritation boils up to her throat and Sylvanas shallows it down in an attempt to calm herself, but the steam that leaves behind pierces her stomach with melancholy and awful self-consciousness. 

Did Jaina prefer those ears? Were they smoother? Warmer? 

_Living?_

Jaina raises carefully from the seat, having finished her break from work. She kisses Sylvanas’ cheek on her way to the office room which looks as chaotic as ever. Order in disorder, she usually replies at Sylvanas’ insistence to clear the space. 

Sylvanas looks at the outstretched body that is almost occupying the whole sofa. She has yet to have words with this individual, and Sylvanas decides to seize this opportunity. She’s the Banshee Queen, Warchief of the Horde, former Ranger General of Quel’thalas; she had fought countless battles and proclaimed victory on top of her enemies’ skulls. She could win the battle for Jaina’s heart.Twisting her body to confront that pretty face, now looking at her with irritating smugness, Sylvanas says:  


“I will speak and you will listen. The only reason why you’re here is that I allowed it. Jaina is my wife and the bond that unites us is deeper and stronger than you could ever possibly imagine.” Sylvanas watches with satisfaction as the smirk disappears. “You lack the power to break it. Am I understood, filthy beast?

_“Meow.”_

“...Good.”

-

“Why are you so…infatuated with that thing?” Sylvanas asks, gesturing vaguely to the cat sprawled on Jaina’s lap. Not even during dinner that beast is unattached from her wife.

“Her name is Aegwynn.” Jaina admonishes her, narrowing her eyes at the elf half-heartedly. The mage seems to ponder for a couple of seconds, gathering her thoughts. “Cats are not viewed as pets in Boralus. They are usually associated with witchery in Drustvar, they steal the fish on the docks...” Jaina scratches the cat’s stomach, making the animal writhe. “I never understood such hate, and I used to sneak out to give them food and water, which added to my arcane powers, made my parents lose their minds.” Jaina laughs with a humor that is only possible to summon after years have passed since the event and Sylvanas listens, warmed by the thought of a little blonde imp driven by a very characteristic, unconditional kindness. A kindness that has not quite disappeared despite how it seemed to dissipate during the harsh experiences of her life.  


“That’s why you didn’t bring it to the Keep.” Sylvanas states. 

Jaina hums, shallowing the last spoonful of soup before speaking. “Yes. The battle for Hyjal occurred and I saw the night elves for the first time, mounted on their tigers and panthers. I was astonished.” Jaina looks at Sylvanas. “Are you going to tell me what has you sighing like a damsel in distress for her loved one lost at the sea?”

Sylvanas chokes on air she doesn’t need. “A dam- I don’t know what you mean.”

Jaina raises an eyebrow. “Don’t be so naïve as to think I'm not conscious of your intentions, my love.” 

Sylvanas puffs, determinated to not let it show. “Do as you desire, wife. Caress its ears if they feel more pleasant to the touch.”

Jaina scrunches her nose as if she finds strangely adorable how her confident wife is so easily agitated by a pet. Cupping a cold cheek so Sylvanas would pay attention to her, she moves closer until their lips are mere centimeters from each other.

“I suffer the same, my heart. I despise being away from you.” Sylvanas closes her eyes when Jaina nudges her nose with her own. It will never fail to surprise her how Jaina seems to decipher her emotions even better than herself, for it was not a matter of irrational envy but the longing to be with the human without the constant press of duty stabbing their backs. Sylvanas can’t remember a time in her undeath –and even in her life- when her responsibilities were not a priority.

“I think I have been neglecting my duties as a wife.” Jaina whispers seductively, pressing their lips closer but not quite kissing yet. 

“We both have.” Sylvanas leans forward, finally joining their mouths in a kiss that is surprisingly brutal from the start. Sylvanas grabs her arms and stands, forcing a very eager Jaina to follow her. The path to their private chambers is interrupted several times by touches and open-mouth kisses and bites until Sylvanas growls and lifts the human, hustling towards the bedroom as Jaina’s laugh echoes against the hall walls. 

\- 

It’s not until hours later that they lay in bed, sated and content. Sylvanas draws shapeless patterns across a milk-skinned back, uniting freckles and the occasional wart to form invisible constellations. Her fingers don’t leave a patch of skin untouched, reveling in its warmth and texture she has missed dearly. After squeezing a butt cheek appreciatively, Sylvanas stops her ministrations to lay on top of Jaina, gliding cold hands along her arms until she reaches Jaina’s wedding-band, toying with it for a brief moment before intertwining their fingers and melting their bodies together. Jaina sighs happily as gentle pecks are being pressed on the back of her neck, her jaw, one against the corner of her mouth, as far as Sylvanas can reach from their position.  


A purr vibrating against her back has Jaina giggling.

“What is it?” Sylvanas murmurs against her cheek. She pulls up slightly so Jaina can twist around to face her. Sylvanas tucks her arms under Jaina’s shoulders, reluctant to let any air flow between them. 

“I’m starting to think you feel jealous of Aegwynn because she threats your position as the cat of the house.” Says Jaina with amusement as she bumps her index finger on Sylvanas’ nose, laughing when the elf pulls away, indignation clear on her beautiful features. 

“I’m not jealous.”

“So you don’t deny you’re half cat.” 

Sylvanas glares at her wife, but the ghost of a roguish smirk has Jaina tensing. “Maybe I am.” With grace and speed, Sylvanas ducks under the covers.

“Syl-“ Jaina’s words are interrupted by her squeal and hysterical laugh as she tries to squirm away from Sylvanas’ merciless tickles on her sides followed by playful imitations of a cat’s meows.  


-

Jaina lays face up, with the elf’s head tuck in the left side of her neck and the cat’s little forehead pressed to the right side. She slowly runs a finger along a large, purplish ear while the other hand rests on a smaller, triangular one. A pair of purrs fill the silence of the night, in tune with her heartbeat.  


Jaina smiles and closes her eyes. 

**Author's Note:**

> First time posting a fic ever, if you read everything, thank you! It started as a joke with a friend and, well, here we are. I hope this little silly thing has at least brought a smile out of you. Any grammatical mistake is solely my fault and my english teacher's fault, probably.


End file.
